Behind Blue Eyes
by luna4277
Summary: No one knows what it's like to be the girl behind blue eyes. A collection of drabbles inspired from the song Behind Blue Eyes by The Who.
1. Chapter 1

_No one knows what it's like_

 _To be the bad man,_

 _To be the sad man_

 _Behind blue eyes_

It's a morning routine she has come to hate. It begins with an alarm jolting her awake and forcing her out of her ideal dreams into her dreary everyday life. She hates putting on her same pink outfit and uselessly rummaging through kitchen cabinets just to head out and rush to school empty-handed. No hello from Big Bob. No good morning from Miriam.

But right as she approaches the steps of P.S. 118, her morning brightens up, if just for a few seconds, when she spots that familiar head of blonde hair and blue hat. It's almost like she's back in her bed, relishing in the sweetest of dreams before she snaps back into reality.

His eyes meet hers and in his bright tone, he acknowledges her presence when no one else does. "Hey Helga. I didn't see you on the bus this morning."

"Of course you didn't see me on the bus, _Arnold-o_. I was late," she replies with spite. "What's it to you anyway?"

"Nothing. I just thought you might be sick or something," Arnold says with true concern.

"Well tough luck football head. Looks like you're stuck with me all day."

He smiles up at her. "I'm glad you're feeling alright Helga."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now get outta my way before you make me even later," she demands as she shoves him out of the way.

Helga makes a stop at her locker, and checks to see if the coast is clear before she pulls out her locket. Dreamy green eyes threaten to claw their way through Helga's blue eyes and demand a change. But she couldn't change. She could only follow this same routine of regret and wishing she could stop pushing away the one person she wishes she could hold close.

 **A/N: This idea was inspired by the writer smarty0007**


	2. Chapter 2

_No one knows what it's like_ _  
_ _To be hated_ _  
_ _To be fated_ _  
_ _To telling only lies_

It's not like it hadn't happened before. Helga was used to it. Boys her age are immature and unable to keep their stupid mouths shut.

"Hey look! It's _Helllgaaa_ ," Harold called out. "She's so ugly with her stupid pink bow and one eyebrow!" he laughed in that obnoxious voice of his but it's contagious and all the other boys follow suit. Her eyebrow scrunches and she scowls. They're all waiting for a reaction and, as usual, she doesn't hold back.

Someday, she tells herself as she chases after Harold, Sid and Stinky with her fist in tow, someday she'll learn how to not give in to her instinct to hurt others, but for now she yells threats and prays that Arnold isn't around to witness her actions.


	3. Chapter 3

_But my dreams_ _  
_ _they aren't as empty_ _  
_ _as my conscience seems to be_

"Name?"

"Same one since the day I was born."

"Age?"

"Twelve."

"Favorite color?"

She pointedly looks down at her pink dress and deadpans, "Gee. If only we had some sort of clue."

" _Helga_ ," Arnold mildly scolds. "You gotta take this seriously if you wanna get a good grade on this assignment."

"Well maybe I would if you didn't ask such lame questions!" Helga exclaims. "What kind of stupid assignment is this anyway? Interviewing a classmate? I mean come on! We've only been with the same group of people since we were three years old!"

"That doesn't mean we know everything about each other," Arnold reasons. "I don't know everything about you."

"There's nothing to know," Helga retorts. "What you see is what you get."

"Are you sure about that?" Arnold questions as he sits beside her on the edge of the pier. "Because I think you're just trying to hide the fact that you're nicer than you seem."

He tries to look at her but she won't have it. She won't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he might just be right. "Just ask the next question, football head," she replies with anger, tamer than usual.

Arnold decides not to push and moves on. He looks down at his clipboard and scans through all the sample questions. One of them has to lead to an insightful answer. "Ok here's one," he speaks up after a brief pause. "What do you wanna be when you grow up?"

"Easy," Helga says without hesitation. "I want to be rich."

"Rich?" Arnold echoes.

"Yeah, ya know, big houses, expensive cars, and a private jet to take me as far away from here as possible."

"Not that that doesn't sound like fun, but wouldn't you miss your family?"

"Yeah right," Helga scoffs. "Like my family would actually notice I was gone," she angrily throws a pebble into the water and watches it skip. She didn't want to be like that pebble, jumping from one stage of her life to the next until she couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to make it to the other side, to be able to look back and think, _'yes, I made it'_.

But she was stuck here, stuck with negligent parents and oblivious friends. She was stuck with half-assed dreams of escaping instead of improving herself because, really, was that much change possible? Would a different environment really change her mood? It wouldn't change the fact that she was unloved, especially by the people she wanted to love her the most.

"Well, what about your friends?" Arnold's voice chimes in. "Won't you miss them?"

"I don't know," Helga shrugs. "It's not like they won't move on. I mean, Phoebe has been studying her whole life to be some big shot doctor or whatever. She won't have time to sleep let alone miss me."

"I'm sure that not true," Arnold tries to assure. "I'm sure she would. And I know your parents and your sister would miss you too if you were gone."

"Well I won't miss any of them," she crosses her arms and looks away defiantly. "I'll be too busy relaxing on my yacht and while the maids and butlers wait on me hand and foot with all the junk food I want."

"That's sounds a bit lonely," Arnold states. "Would living like that really make you happy?"

"Would you stop interrogating me? Criminy!" Helga snaps. "You don't know anything about me so stop making assumptions about what can and can't make me happy."

"That's the point of this assignment, Helga. So I can get to know you better," Arnold points out. There's a bit of a mischievous glint in his eye that shows he's having fun pushing Helga past her limits. She doesn't like knowing that she's _letting_ him, but she doesn't hate it either.

"It's still a stupid assignment." Helga mumbles. "Just move on with the next question."

Arnold shakes his head fondly as he continues to finish writing down Helga's answer. His pencil pauses mid-sentence and he looks up at Helga who's looking around for another pebble. "Hey Helga?"

"What?" she says, a bit annoyed.

"I would miss you."

"What?" she says again, this time a bit more taken aback.

"If you left," Arnold explains. "I would miss you."

She blinks at him, but quickly shakes her head to get rid of the shock. "Yeah whatever, football head."

He laughs good-naturedly, and goes back to writing on his clipboard.

' _Maybe being stuck here isn't so bad'_ , Helga thinks. _'As long as I'm here with you.'_ She pushes herself closer to Arnold and takes a peek at his clipboard. "So what else do you wanna know?"


	4. Chapter 4

_I have hours, Only lonely_

Helga watches as the kids scatter in different directions, each of them heading to their respective homes. She's left alone in Gerald Field when the street lights start flicking on one by one. With a halfhearted kick of dirt, she reluctantly starts her walk home. Today she'll take the long way again, maybe walk by Arnold's house and wonder what he could be doing at that very moment.

She'll think about her long day, and try to shake off the frustration that's embedded into her actions. She'll tell herself that it doesn't matter that no one welcomes her when she gets home and no one will ask her what's wrong when she locks herself into her bedroom because she prefers it that way.

She's got the rest of the night to convince herself she doesn't care and drown herself in the memories of Arnold's bright smile to make herself forget she's alone yet again.


End file.
